the house of pride(傲慢之家)-第20节
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with the tidy bulk of wealth that remained to him。 He went to Macao。
Now Ah Chun had long exercised the power of a king and he was as
imperious as a king。 When he landed at Macao and went into the office
of the biggest European hotel to register； the clerk closed the book on
him。 Chinese were not permitted。 Ah Chun called for the manager
and was treated with contumely。 He drove away； but in two hours he
was back again。 He called the clerk and manager in； gave them a
month's salary； and discharged them。 He had made himself the owner
of the hotel； and in the finest suite he settled down during the many
months the gorgeous palace in the suburbs was building for him。 In the
meantime； with the inevitable ability that was his； he increased the
earnings of his big hotel from three per cent to thirty。
The troubles Ah Chun had flown began early。 There were sons…in…
law that made bad investments； others that played ducks and drakes with
the Achun dowries。 Ah Chun being out of it； they looked at Mamma Ah
Chun and her half million； and； looking； engendered not the best of
feeling toward one another。 Lawyers waxed fat in the striving to
ascertain the construction of trust deeds。 Suits； cross…suits； and
counter…suits cluttered the Hawaiian courts。 Nor did the police courts
escape。 There were angry encounters in which harsh words and harsher
blows were struck。 There were such things as flower pots being thrown
to add emphasis to winged words。 And suits for libel arose that
dragged their way through the courts and kept Honolulu agog with
excitement over the revelations of the witnesses。
In his palace； surrounded by all dear delights of the Orient； Ah Chun
smokes his placid pipe and listens to the turmoil overseas。 By each
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mail steamer； in faultless English； typewritten on an American machine；
a letter goes from Macao to Honolulu； in which； by admirable texts and
precepts； Ah Chun advises his family to live in unity and harmony。 As
for himself； he is out of it all； and well content。 He has won to peace
and repose。 At times he chuckles and rubs his hands； and his slant little
black eyes twinkle merrily at the thought of the funny world。 For out
of all his living and philosophizing； that remains to himthe conviction
that it is a very funny world。
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THE SHERIFF OF KONA
〃You cannot escape liking the climate；〃 Cudworth said； in reply to
my panegyric on the Kona coast。 〃I was a young fellow； just out of
college； when I came here eighteen years ago。 I never went back；
except； of course； to visit。 And I warn you； if you have some spot dear
to you on earth； not to linger here too long； else you will find this
dearer。〃
We had finished dinner； which had been served on the big lanai； the
one with a northerly exposure； though exposure is indeed a misnomer in
so delectable a climate。
The candles had been put out； and a slim； white…clad Japanese
slipped like a ghost through the silvery moonlight； presented us with
cigars； and faded away into the darkness of the bungalow。 I looked
through a screen of banana and lehua trees； and down across the guava
scrub to the quiet sea a thousand feet beneath。 For a week； ever since I
had landed from the tiny coasting…steamer； I had been stopping with
Cudworth； and during that time no wind had ruffled that unvexed sea。
True； there had been breezes； but they were the gentlest zephyrs that
ever blew through summer isles。 They were not winds； they were
sighslong； balmy sighs of a world at rest。
〃A lotus land；〃 I said。
〃Where each day is like every day； and every day is a paradise of
days；〃 he answered。 〃Nothing ever happens。 It is not too hot。 It is
not too cold。 It is always just right。 Have you noticed how the land
and the sea breathe turn and turn about？〃
Indeed； I had noticed that delicious rhythmic； breathing。 Each
morning I had watched the sea…breeze begin at the shore and slowly
extend seaward as it blew the mildest； softest whiff of ozone to the land。
It played over the sea； just faintly darkening its surface； with here and
there and everywhere long lanes of calm； shifting； changing； drifting；
according to the capricious kisses of the breeze。 And each evening I
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had watched the sea breath die away to heavenly calm； and heard the
land breath softly make its way through the coffee trees and monkey…
pods。
〃It is a land of perpetual calm；〃 I said。 〃Does it ever blow here？… …
ever really blow？ You know what I mean。〃
Cudworth shook his head and pointed eastward。
〃How can it blow； with a barrier like that to stop it？〃
Far above towered the huge bulks of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa；
seeming to blot out half the starry sky。 Two miles and a half above our
heads they reared their own heads； white with snow that the tropic sun
had failed to melt。
〃Thirty miles away； right now； I'll wager； it is blowing forty miles an
hour。〃
I smiled incredulously。
Cudworth stepped to the lanai telephone。 He called up； in
succession； Waimea； Kohala； and Hamakua。 Snatches of his
conversation told me that the wind was blowing： 〃Rip…snorting and
back…jumping； eh？ 。 。 。 How long？ 。 。 。 Only a week？ 。 。 。 Hello； Abe； is
that you？ 。 。 。 Yes； yes 。 。 。 You WILL plant coffee on the Hamakua
coast 。 。 。 Hang your wind…breaks！ You should see MY trees。〃
〃Blowing a gale；〃 he said to me； turning from hanging up the
receiver。 〃I always have to joke Abe on his coffee。 He has five
hundred acres； and he's done marvels in wind…breaking； but how he
keeps the roots in the ground is beyond me。 Blow？ It always blows
on the Hamakua side。 Kohala reports a schooner under double reefs
beating up the channel between Hawaii and Maui； and making heavy
weather of it。〃
〃It is hard to realize；〃 I said lamely。 〃Doesn't a little whiff of it ever
eddy around somehow； and get down here？〃
〃Not a whiff。 Our land…breeze is absolutely of no kin； for it begins
this side of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa。 You see； the land radiates its
heat quicker than the sea； and so； at night； the land breathes over the sea。
In the day the land becomes warmer than the sea； and the sea breathes
over the land 。 。 。 Listen！ Here comes the land…breath now； the
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mountain wind。〃
I could hear it coming； rustling softly through the coffee trees；
stirring the monkey…pods； and sighing through the sugar…cane。 On the
lanai the hush still reigned。 Then it came； the first feel of the mountain
wind； faintly balmy； fragrant and spicy； and cool； deliciously cool； a
silken coolness； a wine…like cool
